


Far Away

by kaclydid



Category: Hell on Wheels (TV)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, preexisting relationship, reference to past character deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23585341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaclydid/pseuds/kaclydid
Summary: Season 3 spoilers ahead !!!Durant is in prison, and Cullen has taken over the UP Railroad. You are a nurse, living a life on the front lines of this industrial revolution.
Relationships: Cullen Bohannon/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there is precious little love for bohannon on here and on tumblr. I remedied that. instead of doing homework.   
> placeholder surname for reader is Miss/Mrs Kinson because I didn't want to use Y/N stuff.  
> Title comes from the song "Far Away" by Jose Gonzales from the Red Dead Redemption soundtrack that happened to start playing as I wrote this

The wide open country where Hell on Wheels had settled anew was as beautiful as ever. The snows of the winter had left the creeks and ponds filled to the brim with bright, clear waters, and the fields abundant with wild flowers. You stood at the entrance of your tent, just behind the infirmary. You had taken over as a “doctor” when the man who had been one died. That was long before Durant had been shot, and the fiasco with the building of the bridge over that god forsaken gorge. **  
**

You had learned enough during the war, helping in camps along the Confederate lines to patch bullet wounds and administer tinctures and salves. You were a battlefield nurse, away from the war between the North and South, and now standing on the lines of the war for the West, as the Union Pacific carved a path towards the Pacific. 

The infirmary tent was well constructed and large enough to hose six cots, a few cabinets, and tables for storage. It had always been one of the first set up as the town moved, and one of the last to be torn down. 

You sat on your knees on the wooden floorboards beside the large trunk just inside the door to the tent, folding your belongings away. You were shocked to find Cullen Bohannon back in Omaha just a few weeks earlier, now head of the Union Pacific. You were more shocked to find that almost everyone had returned to Hell on Wheels when they had found out. 

The town was a family in a sort of dysfunctional way, you assumed. Everyone here cared for one another. And no man more so than Cullen Bohannon. 

You knew about his past. The soldiers he had killed before arriving in Hell on Wheels. Knew what he had lost in the war. You were fairly certain you must have met him in some infirmary tent on the battlefield at one point in time, but neither of you could say for certain if you had met. But, you had gotten to know each other in Hell on Wheels from the moment he arrived.

Then you had been married to James Kinson, an average, ex-confederate, who had moved you and your daughter up North to work the rails. It was decent pay, and the environment was much nicer than the war ravaged southland you had called home. 

Cullen was there the day your daughter died, sitting beside your husband on the small porch of your tent, listening to you cry into Eva’s shoulder. 

He had been there when your husband was injured at that god forsaken gorge. The steam engine that blew had caused an avalanche of timber and trestles down the cliff side, killing and injuring many, both black and white. Cullen made sure all were accounted for and brought back to town. 

Your husband had been given a funeral alongside his work brothers, buried with a simple cross grave marker along the railroad somewhere East of you. Your daughter laid in a grave marked with a similar cross and dusted with wildflowers even further East. You knew you wouldn’t see those plots again. 

There was a slight knock on the wooden post of your tent’s entrance, and you looked up, hands still in your lap as you folded an apron. Cullen Bohannon stood in the door, hat in hand. 

“Mister Bohannon,” you greeted with a nod, placing the apron in the trunk and rising to your feet, smiling as Cullen stepped forward to assist with an outstretched hand. “What can I do for you?”

“Everything in order here?” he asked after a moment, as if some sort of nerves were keeping him from speaking. 

“Yes. It’s a decent spot,” you nodded, stepping to the small bed and unpacking the few books from the wooden crate. “I take it your trip to New York was successful,” you smiled, glancing at the velvet vest and clean shirt he wore. “You look ever like the head of a railroad, Mister Bohannon.” You smirked, turning your full attention to him as you straightened. 

“If you need anything,” he started, drifting off as he motioned around him with his hat. “Anything … don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Well,” you hummed, crossing your arms over your chest. “As a matter of fact there is something I do require.”

Cullen smirked. “And that is?”

“It has been months since I saw you last. I thought you had died, camping out in a burnt out rail car for the winter. Then you show up in Omaha, a picture of Southern etiquette, with your suit and tie, and say nothing.” Your tone was playful, sarcastic, and one that had Cullen smiling as he nodded along. 

“I was busy,” he interjected with a short chuckle.

“Too busy for a kiss hello?”

He nodded. “Never,” he smiled, stepping forward and kissing you. 


	2. Chapter 2

You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched Mister Bohannon greet Durant, the Board, and General Grant dressed in his long johns and covered, head to toe, in mud and God knows what else. “What happened?” you asked one of the workers as Cullen’s conversation continued. 

“Mule broke its leg,” the man answered, spitting in the dirt, “Bohannon tried to calm it.”

Cullen stared down Durant, the injunction paper held in his hands. “You’re shutting down my railroad?”

The crowd had grown quiet as they watched their boss speak to the ex-owner of the railroad. For a moment, all stood with bated breath. 

Durant nodded, a smug smile starting to light his features. “For starters, yes.”

Cullen smirked with a nod, glancing over to the men standing behind Durant and Grant. “Can we at least move the mule first?”

You chuckled as Cullen spoke, the tone of his voice no longer strained from the previous conversation upon Durant’s arrival. As Durant started away with the board and General following behind, you stepped up, taking the paper from Cullen as he met your gaze. 

“This is going to be interesting,” you mumbled, looking down to the paper.

Cullen nodded. “All right! Let’s move this,” he started, kneeling back down in the dirt as he started to instruct the men around him. 

You stood back, waiting until the mule had been moved off the tracks and a horse had been brought up to replace it. The workers dispersed, heading for the cut, as Cullen trudged up to you. 

“You will take a bath, won’t you?” you asked, watching as he tried to wipe mud off his hands and only transferring more from his clothes. “And a good laundering.”

Cullen smirked, removing his hat to run his hand through his hair. “I don’t like this.”

“What? The fact that Durant has shown up out of the blue with the council.” 

Cullen nodded, looking over the camp. You followed as he started towards his lodgings, slapping his hat against his thigh to knock off some of the drying mud. “The entire board … General Grant …”

“You’ll figure it out,” you said simply, walking past him to the bucket beside the door, filled with cool rain water. “Come on, then. You can’t meet with the great General Ulysses Grant covered in mud and … possibly shit.”

Cullen’s gaze landed on you. “You are not goin’ to dump that bucket on my head.” He grabbed a jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll wash later,” he added, unclasping his gun belt. 

You watched as he removed his belt and boots, nodding your agreement to his words. You waited until he was sitting, turning for his chest and clean clothes, back to you, before dumping the bucket over him. 

He stopped, hair hanging over his face, water dripping over the wooden floorboards. You chuckled, stepping around him and setting the bucket down. “I will see you later, then,” you smiled, starting for the door.

“Ah,” Cullen’s voice reached you at the same time his hand grabbed your arm, turning you back to him. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Mister Bohannon, I am afraid I did what any sane woman would do,” you smiled. “You were covered in dirt, in your underwear. That is no way for the head of the Railroad to meet a General.” You lifted onto your tip toes and kissed him. “Behave. Durant knows he needs you for this road.”

***

You lifted your head as a small knock sounded on the outside of your tent. Standing from your bed and placing aside your book, you stepped to the door to find Cullen standing there. “Well, good evening, Mister Bohannon.”

“Stop it,” he scoffed. 

“Stop what?”

“The Mister Bohannon thing,” he said, motioning vaguely at your form with his hat. His smile gave him away. He didn’t care. It was something he had found he liked. The sound of his name on your lips. 

You smiled, stepping aside to let Cullen enter. “Everything alright? It’s late,” you started, glancing outside as the tent flap closed behind him. 

“Perfect time to sneak away from responsibilities,” he groaned as he sank into the wooden chair beside your small table, the movement knocking the candle flickering. 

“What would the town say, if they knew their beloved boss snuck into a poor woman’s tent at night?” you smiled, stepping forward to stand between his knees. “They’d think you were up to something.”

“Maybe I am,” he smirked, head tilting back to look up to you. 

You leant down, fingers tangling into his shaggy hair as you kissed him. It wasn’t the first time, yet you couldn’t get over the softness, and gentleness, the man possessed when he kissed you. He was rugged, jaded, a stony wall around his heart. 

You settled on his knee, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer as the chair beneath him creaked. Your lips mapped a route over his jaw, fingers running over the beard on his cheeks. He shuddered a breath, fingers tightening on your hip, as your lips carried on down his neck. 

“You should relax more, Cullen,” you smirked, hot breath ghosting across the skin of his neck as he leaned his head back, giving you more space to move as you laved more kisses across his skin. 

He chuckled deep in his throat, and although you didn’t look up to see it, you knew he had a bright smile on his face as he did. “Fine time to relax,” he mumbled. After a few more moments, he tapped his hand against your thigh as he shifted beneath you. “Come on. Up,” he grumbled, reluctantly pushing your weight off his lap so he could stand.

The moment he was up, you were back on him. Fingers found his belt, unfastening the clasp and removing the weapons he always carried on his hips, tenderly placing them aside on the table. Next came the suspenders, which he helped shrug out of only so he could keep his hands on your waist as his own lust had kicked in, his lips finding the bare skin of your neck and chest. 

You landed back on the bed as Cullen continued to kiss down your neck. This wasn’t the first time, yet it always felt that way with him. You had known him to be hard around the edges, ruthless in his work, yet in bed, able to kiss away the creases in his brow and make him relax, he was a different person. 

He worshipped you, held you as if he would wake in the morning and find you gone. His kisses were passionate, saying words he couldn’t come to express verbally. 

Legs around his waist, you sighed into more kisses, his hips moving against yours. The small bed creaked with every hitch of his hips. 

He finished with a shaky breath into the crook of your neck, your own end matching his, sending a wave of calmness through your limbs as Cullen’s form rested over you. You relaxed under his weight, fingers trailing through his long hair. “It is okay for you to rest,” you hummed, relishing in the deep exhale Cullen released at your words, as if he was exhaling the weight of the entire week. 

He sighed, pushing up on his elbows and rolling to the side, pulling the thin blanket over the two of you. Fingers pressed into the bridge of his nose, he lay there for a moment. 

You sighed, rolling into his side. “The men are fed, we’ve got water, and work has continued on without a hitch since the Credit Mobilier Board came to town,” you started, brushing your hand through his hair as you laid beside him. “It is okay for you to rest. You don’t have to work yourself into a grave.”

Dropping his hand, he looked up to you, letting a smile grow on his features slowly. Outside of your tent, the nighttime sounds of camp drifted on the cool air. “I can’t let this fail.”

“You won’t,” you smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you wake in the morning in cullen's arms and find you don't really want to leave. cullen takes you on a picnic.

You were content. 

Content, comfy, and utterly happy. 

It had been too long since you had felt this way. The loss of your daughter and husband had almost killed you. 

Cullen had lost his wife, son, his home to the war, and had waged a revenge plot that had sent him searching across the country before dropping him in the middle of a railroad camp. 

Two sad souls had gravitated towards one another. 

Laying in his arms, the morning sun warming the side of your canvas housing, you felt content. As if the hardships the two of you had faced over the years could be healed from. Both of you knew this relationship was maybe not the best idea. Cullen had too much on his plate now, running the railroad. His work kept him out on long days at the cut, or had him spending hours in his office, pouring over the paperwork Durant was once in charge of and oh so good at. 

Cullen belonged out there. With the workers. Risking his own life alongside them. 

Which, admittedly, you felt very scared off. Your husband had died during construction of that damned trellis bridge over the river. You couldn’t bear the thought of Cullen dying out there too. 

But laying in his arms, you could forget about all that for a little while. You could press your ear against his chest, listen to the steady heartbeat beneath, and just be there with him, even if the moment would be lost in a few moments when duties called.

Cullen hummed, a short chuckle leaving his throat as he lay beneath you, arm curled around your shoulders and hand brushing along your hair. “What are you thinkin’?” he asked.

You shrugged, adjusting as you lay beside him on the small bed. “You. Us. This railroad.”

“Hmm.” He paused, hand raising to run through his own hair before falling back to your shoulder. “Anything in particular?”

“You and the General,” you hummed, relaxing into his embrace. “How you’re gonna fight Durant this time …” 

“He’s gonna try to pull everythin’ out to get his railroad back,” Cullen sighed. “We gotta fight for it.”

“We will,” you smiled, pushing up onto your elbow. “You, me, Elam, even the General … we’re with you, Mister Bohannon.” 

Cullen laughed, eyes closing as you spoke his name in a forced accent reminiscent of Durant’s. 

You smiled down to him, watching as he laughed at your mimicry. 

He was content. 

Content, comfy, and utterly happy. 

It had been too long since you had seen Cullen smile a genuine smile, or laugh a hearty laugh. 

“Alright, Mister,” you sighed, shoving his chest playfully before leaning in and kissing him. “Up you get. You’ll be late for work.”

Cullen stepped out of your tent a bit later, fully dressed, hat in hand, and stood for a moment on your small stoop. The morning fog blanketed the prairie, casting an eerie gloom over the town as the sun rose over the distant hills. As you stepped outside beside him, tying the apron around your waist, he turned to you, fidgeting with his hat as if he was a child, too nervous to ask a question. 

“Why … we should …” he started, dropping his gaze to his hat. “We should have a picnic,” he finally managed after a few moments of silence. “Today. For lunch.”

“A picnic?” you prodded, folding your hands in front of you. 

“A picnic.” He placed his hat on his head with a nod, his smile returning. “After my meeting with Grant,” he started once more. “A picnic. You and me, and all the daisy chains you can make.”

You smiled brightly. “I would like that very much, Mister Bohannon.”

“I would too,” he smiled. 

***

You didn’t know how he managed it, but you couldn’t put it past him. He was Cullen after all. Hell on Wheels loved him. 

Mickey and Sean had pulled together two bottles of alcohol, Ruth and Eva had pitched in food, and Cullen had packed it all into a sideboard and rolled up to the infirmary tent with a very smitten look on his face. 

“Well,” you smiled as you watched Cullen jump from the wagon bench. “This is a surprise. I had thought you meant a lunch date on the steps of your train car as a picnic.”

“Now,” he smiled, “I did promise you daisy chains,” he joked. “We’ll disappear for a while. Get away from camp.”

“Then,” you sighed, untying your apron and draping it over the wooden chair on the stoop of the infirmary tent. “It would be a pleasure.”

You couldn’t help but feel like a young girl again as you rode beside Cullen on the wagon bench. He stayed mostly quiet, but you could tell whatever tension he had been carrying since the Board arrived had lessened a bit. He seemed at ease, and calm. Able to forget about his duties for a moment and get away. 

Not too far from Hell on Wheels, still close enough to hear the echoing of pick axes and hammers on the line, Cullen stopped the wagon at a small grouping of trees. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say Mister Bohannon has done this before,” you smiled, taking his hand as he helped you from the wagon. “Your wife must have been the luckiest woman.”

He nodded, a bit shyly as you brought up the mention of his wife, but the two of you knew each other well enough to not find the topic awkward. 

“She didn’t enjoy daisy chains quite as much as you do,” he smirked. 

The day was nice. A perfect day for a picnic under a tree. You let Cullen lay his head on your lap as you threaded daisies together, smiling as he watched you.

“What is it?” you asked, focused on the tiny flower stem you were braiding into the chain. 

Below you, Cullen just watched you, his blue eyes affectionate as he laid against your lap. “When I met you all in Omaha … Were you planning on coming back? Before I asked?”

You stayed silent for a moment before lowering your hands, draping the daisy chain over Cullen’s head to drape around his neck as he sat up, leaning against his arm. 

“No,” you answered. “Before I … Before you found me, I was … I was planning on going back to Savannah. Find my family. Start anew.” You sighed, looking down to your hands. “After the war, James came home to me. He came home, and we promised we would make a new life together, he’d find a job, and we’d be well off. After losing him … I … i couldn’t stand the thought of this railroad anymore, and when I heard there were talks of shutting down … I … thought about it.”

Cullen nodded, meeting your gaze with his intense, but somehow, saddened look. Bowing his head, looking down to the daisy chain you had draped over his neck, he nodded. “I’m glad you came back.”

“I’m glad you came back,” you repeated, emphasizing your words as you poked him on the shoulder. “When I saw you had survived the winter, were meeting with the Board in NEw York … when I learned you were  _ trying _ so hard to keep the railroad going, I was … so happy.” 

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” he started, voice low as he sat up, resting his arm against his raised knee. 

“Yes I do,” you smiled, sitting forward. 

“You don’t,” he pressed. “This is Hell. Literally. I … I would hate to lose you to it.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, running a hand through his hair as you brushed it from his face. “You’re gonna have to find someone else to put up with your crap if I leave, and honestly, not many people can,” you smiled. 

He turned to face you with a broad smile on his face. “True.”

“I … I love you, Cullen.”

His gaze shot back up to yours at the words, his eyes wide at the confession. “I …. “

“I thought you should know,” you mumbled, turning away. 

“I love you too,” he responded, hand on your cheek as he leaned in, kissing you. 


End file.
